I Don't Deserve Love: Alternate Ending

Chapter 2: Escape With Conditions

The next morning I pulled on the long-sleeved jacket from my school's winter uniform with a flourish, barely noticing the throbbing pain of my bruised shoulder. Today is the last day I will ever have to wear this, I thought giddily.

Father had actually agreed.

Last night Auntie called me back within twenty minutes and had excitedly told me that I was going to come live with her until I graduated high school. The shock made me start crying again, but I couldn't explain to Auntie that they were tears of relief instead of tears of sadness for my parents' divorce. We had spent hours on the phone talking about what I should pack and when I was going to be leaving.

"I'm really leaving," I whispered to my reflection in the mirror and tried to keep myself from smiling.

Grabbing the blue school-issued backpack of my private girl's academy, I slung it over my uninjured shoulder and walked down the stairs. My long hair shifted back and forth against my back as I descended the steps.

As I walked into the spacious kitchen (which was one of the only rooms in the house I was allowed to be in at any time of the day) I grabbed a piece of the granola bar that I had baked over the weekend. I had been in charge of cooking since I could hold a knife and guilt flooded through me as I thought of leaving my father to fend for himself.

Am I doing the right thing? I don't deserve happiness like this... An uncomfortable pit was forming in my stomach the more I thought of it. Last night I acted on pure survival instinct when I begged Auntie to take me away... but now that I was calmer I couldn't help but feel like I may have been too hasty. Quickly I shook my head and clung to the memory of Auntie excitedly planning my trip last night.

With a sigh, I left the kitchen and made my way to the front door. My school was a good thirty minute walk and if I didn't leave soon I would be late. Slipping on the black loafers worn by all of the girls in my school, I opened the door and gasped in shock, instinctively shrinking back into the open doorway. My father was on the doorstep, leaning against the small grate that enclosed the topmost part of the walkway into our two-story home. He was wearing the same clothes as last night and his tanned skin looked pale and sallow.

Fear gripped me as I stood frozen in the doorway, looking at the man who refused to let me call him 'Father' to his face. As quietly as I could, I tried to back out of the doorway to flee back inside, but suddenly his left leg resting against the grate slipped. Father toppled over and groaned piteously, reaching up to hold his head in one of his large, muscular hands.

Torn between wanting to help him and pretending I hadn't seen anything, I gripped the door handle as hard as I could. Before I could make my decision though Father opened one of his bloodshot eyes to glare at me through a slit in his fingers. I gulped, trying to not show my fear, and took a timid step forward.

"C-can I help you?" I asked softly.

Father's one black eye narrowed at me as he grabbed the railing and hoisted himself up into a standing position. Menacingly, he advanced on me and I backed into the living room, doing my best to remain calm. Without a word, Father kicked the door behind him closed and continued his silent approach, forcing me back with his disgust-filled glare until I was in the middle of the living room. He stopped moving but continued glaring, and I could feel a bead of sweat drip from the base of my neck and down my spine.

"So, you're going to live with Yuki now, is that right?"

My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't think of anything but to nod in affirmation. Without warning, Father's left leg whipped out and slammed into my stomach so hard my feet left the ground. I landed on my back, wheezing and gasping desperately for breath.